


Shallow Sins

by Persephonesorchid



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgardian Reader (Marvel), F/M, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25610182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephonesorchid/pseuds/Persephonesorchid
Summary: Requested over my Wattpad::Loki now lives in his solitude, after his love, Y/n left him without a word. With the help of a mysterious bird, Loki finds her, and...her son.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/Loki/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Shallow Sins

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Enjoy!

" _Loki_..."

Oh how he relished moments like this. The mornings when he could pull her away from her duties long enough to coax her into his bed, not in the risqué way that one might think, though. He only wanted to lengthen the scarce moments he did have with her. To make her smile and to giggle his name in the way she had just seconds before. A moment to admire the beauty of the woman in all her simplicity, to watch the way her eyes shone in the drifting light of the early morning sun; ablaze with a fire reserved for him alone - admiration he had yet to see dim.

To watch how a shy smile would brighten her features and dimple her reddening cheeks as he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrists. He would whisper to her, promises he would one day keep, and loathe the moment that she had to leave. Then, they would fall back into their respected roles of Prince and Handmaiden, where moments shared together were little and bittersweet.

And there were moments, that Loki especially hated. The moments when he had to wake from the dream that he fabricated, the dreams he used as reminders that he would never forget the promises he didn't have a chance to fulfill. He would wake in his bed, silken sheets tossed about him, the tell-tale sign of yet another restless night.

He was reluctant to move, and he stared at the place where she had so frequently occupied, cold to the touch now that she was not here to take her place. The Prince turns, laying on his back now with his hands under his head; staring at the ceiling. He allowed himself a moment to leave it behind, to forget what was and not imagine what could have been, and definitely not focus on what could not have been given their titles.

He hadn't cared about how many heads would turn or just how much idle gossip reached beyond the walls of the palace. He hadn't cared that she could have lost her means of living because of her fraternization with him - a scandal really - and he supposed, he was being selfish.

And he _was_ selfish, he was because she had cared. She fretted constantly about what people would say, what people would think should they ever find out the the Prince had a maid of all people for a lover. Valhalla forbid, the _King_.

Loki had pleaded with her not to stress over it, lest the girl worry herself into a stupor, but she was stubborn and never listened to a word he said.

Maybe he had cared too little, or maybe it was their positions chosen not by either of them that made her run.

Because boy did she run.

Y/n had left without a word, the gold and emerald ring he had given her laid still on his desk where he found it. There was no trace that she had ever been in the palace, and a small part of him disliked her for it. He deserved as much as a _note_.

Gone were the mornings he spent pulling her away from her tasks. Gone were the whispers of his name and her soft touch, her gentle eyes that regarded him with such love. Instead he woke one morning to a knocking on his door, and delivered by Einherjar was a handmaiden Loki had not known. He knew well not to ask certain things in the presence of people he could not trust, so he questioned the young maid once his doors were shut.

_I hadn't been told, your Majesty. I was only told to report here until further notice._

He was unsatisfied with her answer, and more so with her poorly completed tasks. Sure, he was capable of keeping his quarters clean to his liking, but the girl did a horrible job of cleaning up after him and made more messes with her clumsiness than anything else.

Loki jolted as a crash sounded from his bathing quarters, and through the crack in the door a short yelp followed. He sighed and begrudgingly rose from his spot, walking towards the room to see what in the nine realms the foolish girl had gotten herself into now.

He found her standing by the large tub, the front of her dress thoroughly soaked, nursing an injured hand. Steam rose languidly from the pail of hot water she had tried to lift, it sat on the floor and thankfully hadn't tipped over.

She had stuttered through her apology with wide brown eyes, still clutching her hand to her chest. Loki didn't have the heart to scold her and instead relieved her of her duties until the following day. She was young, a child to his eyes and was probably frazzled enough by her own misfortunes.

More often than not, Loki would find himself wandering aimlessly - no real destination in mind or intention to stay in one place for too long, and that is exactly what he was doing later that morning. After expertly avoiding his brother and his request to join him on a trip to the market place, Loki found himself in one of the gardens on the palace grounds.

He sat under the shade of an apple tree, allowing himself a reprieve from his restless mind. Most of his days were spent this way - wandering, out of his own head, still hurting and confused as to why. He searched for her, for a year and then some, as discreetly as he could, and had found no trace of the woman or her wareabouts.

He had thought, Y/n had given him a purpose: the stolen moments, the lightweight, floating feeling he had whenever she was near; he was _happy_. For once, contented with the hand that fate had dealt, and for one, small moment, he finally drew the ace.

But of course, fate had sought that he would never be happy for as long as his eternal days would allow. He would never hold that sliver of joy ever again, and that was _fine_ \- he's quite used to it by now.

The call of a bird pulled Loki's attention from his thoughts, and it sat, perched on a branch above him. It stared down at him with beady black eyes that, quite honestly, unnerved him for a reason he couldn't grasp. It's black feathers shone hues of blue and green in the morning sun as it ruffled it's wings and squawked at him. Loki sat up, turning to watch the creature as it hopped along the branch, still watching him with a strange fascination.

It spread it's dark wings and flew over to another tree not too far from where Loki sat, turned and called again.

The Prince, now wondering what the bird could have possibly wanted, got to his feet.

"What?" Loki asked, moving his arms in a questioning gesture, only taking a moment to realise that he was _talking to a bird_.

He thought then, that perhaps he should have taken Thor's offer - his solitude has finally become his enemy. A raven of course was not uncommon in Asgard, as many other species of birds that resided there. Extremely intelligent creatures and contrary to the mortal's beliefs, they were not bringers of death, but it worried Loki none the less that a bird was clearly trying to lead him somewhere.

The bird stared, tilted it's head and then squawked once more - a seemingly impatient sound as it hopped in place. It swooped off the branch and flew towards Loki, only to hook it's talons into the sleeve of his tunic, flapping it's wings frantically before flying off towards the garden entrance.

Well, he supposed, he'd have to follow.

When Loki reached inside the palace, the bird of course, was no where to be seen. Which then lead Loki to believe that he had simply imagined the creature. He shook his head and turned on his heel to return to the garden when the bird called again. It stood, hopping at the end of the long hall, flapping it's wings with an urgency that made Loki walk in a brisk pace towards it.

"Well, if you would _wait_ -" Loki sighed as the bird flew off again and begrudgingly followed. It led him through the winding halls of the palace to which he was familiar, leading him all the way to the courtyard stables and past a confused Thor who was just returning.

"It must be Yuletide," Thor had jested and had gave him a strange look with a tilt of his head and asked where he was off to at such a speed. Loki didn't dare tell him he was following a bird and instead told him that he was going to take a ride around the city and would return at a later time. Which, in truth, wasn't exactly a lie - he'd no idea where this raven was so desperate to lead him and no idea how long it would take. Given that he was certainly not losing his mind and the raven was actually leading him someplace.

He left his brother to tend to his own business, mounted his horse and followed the raven as it left the palace grounds. It wasn't long before he lost sight of the creature, and lead his horse through the market place, all the while mumbling curses.

"Where's that blasted bird?" He ignored the stares and chatter from the people who had stopped to watch him. He should have known better, who in their right minds would go following a bird? Never mind how much it seemed like the bird wanted him to do so.

When the bird called again, Loki was already directing his horse to go back to the palace, it was further away, at the village's entrance, watching him. Loki sucked his teeth, and clicked his tongue for his horse to move forward. He followed the bird for some time, through the village until they came to a forest path and he dismounted.

"Stay put, Thegn," In a flash of shimmering green, Loki gave the stallion an apple, who whinnied softly in appreciation.

The bird waited for him and Loki followed it through the forest path that it lead, flying from tree to tree and stopping every few minutes to insure that he was following. This was a strange bird and an even stranger occurrence, and Loki wondered again, briefly where it was taking him and then silently berated himself for his own foolishness, he was following a bird for Valhalla's sake.

After a few moments more of walking, and quietly considering to return to his solitude, when finally, they came to a clearing, where the trees were sparse and wild flowers bloomed among tall, green grass. The trail had ended, here now at the entrance lined at the edges were pale stones that shimmered under the sun, and a house casted a shadow across the dancing weeds.

The bird hopped to the wooden door and tapped it's beak against it and waited, and Loki waited too, watching the door with drawn brows. A voice came from inside, a voice Loki had instantly recognised and it almost made his heart stop.

"Bjorn, where in _Odin's_ name have you been?" The door pushed outwards, "If you have been troubling the baker again, I'll clip your win..."

And she stared, silent at first, eyes wide and lips parted. Her hand that held the door slipped and her eyes darted between Loki and the bird -- _Bjorn_ , and as Loki took a step forward, she took one back. The Prince froze, and stared too, and though his face had shown not what he felt, his eyes betrayed him, and Loki knew.

He was mostly...confused, and then the hurt came, digging at his chest and once again, wrapping a tight fist around his heart with a vice grip; and then, the anger. Though, it was subtle enough for him not to do or say anything rash.

Fate, as it seemed, liked games. Just when he had made his peace with her leaving so abruptly, just when he was ready to go on alone. Of course this was where the bird was leading him, of course it belonged to her.

The silence between them was almost tangible as they continued to simply stare at eachother as though they were both frozen against the swiftness of time. Every sound around Loki had seemed to die, fading rapidly and he tried to convince himself that this was just a dream, but he knew well the difference between the reality that surrounded him and his own tricks.

Then, it was broken, by the call of a small voice and behind Y/n's skirts emerged a child. And it was then, that Loki turned to leave.

The bird squawked loudly in protest but he ignored it and walked as quickly as his swarming mind allowed. So that was it, _that_ is why she left, of course -- this was fate's game, to let him see the woman he loved with another man's child.

He didn't get too far, however, and was stopped by a small hand grabbing his own. And everything around him faded to white, shimmering like golden rays and then he was standing in the throne room before Odin.

For a moment, he thought he knelt, staring at his reflection in the gold floors, but it was not him, and instead, it was _Y/n._

And then he was behind her, watching her rise from her kneeling position, slight tremors wracking her form as the All-Father silently watched her.

_"You requested my presence, All-Father?"_ She asked quietly, her hands were gripping eachother tightly where they hid behind her back.

Odin stared down at her in regal indifference, his stare as cold as the never ending winter of Jotunheim.

" _You were hand picked by Frigga to serve as handmaiden to Loki and nothing more_." His voice echoed around the high ceiling of the room, Y/n tensed before quickly relaxing.

_"Forgive me for my boldness, All-Father, but what are you implying?"_ She raised her chin in defiance, a motion that Loki had been on the receiving end of countless times. He watched Odin carefully, saw the barely concealed twitch of his fingers where he held Gungnir loosely in his grip.

_He had known._

Odin had many methods of seeking information, he did not need Heimdall's watchful eyes when he possessed his own sight.

_"Exactly what you know I am implying."_ His answer was as vague as it could have been, but Loki knew what he meant, and Y/n knew, too. The edges of the world around him seemed to blur together, melding the image of memory into white once more.

When Loki blinked, no more than a few seconds had passed, he was still standing on the forest path, and the hand that held his own loosened and slipped. He looked down to stare into green eyes that matched his own and an intensity a child should not possess. His face was round and full, and an innocence laid there, unsullied yet by the harshness of the world that Loki hoped the boy should never have to experience.

The boy, who looked no more than six, said nothing before he turned and ran back to Y/n. Loki turned, his hands trembling at his sides, he watched the boy, and he felt a familiar magic - uncontrolled, but there none the less. He hid behind his mother once more and cling to her dress like it was the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

Y/n gave him a tight smile, shifting nervously on her feet, "You may want to come inside."


End file.
